


Mountains into Molehills

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Political Debate as Foreplay, Seduction, sex for political gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Franz is going to have a word with the duke about his business practices.





	Mountains into Molehills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyrai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrai/gifts).



"Fuck you and your entire ilk," Franz said, but couldn’t help the moan that crossed his lips. He wanted to swallow back this betrayal of his body. The clever fingers of his partner rendered him to choke back the rest of the diatribe trying to come out of his mouth. He had had one prepared since the first time he had been aware of who exactly was blocking the ratification of their new laws but now it was too late, he was already in too deep.

He hadn’t thought about more than a fun romp in the sheets when he’d first seen the man at one of the post houses. He’d taxed him a noble at the first glance of the cut of his clothing, if a more robust noble than the ones he’d heard about. The more pertinent part of his character to Franz had been the way the noble watched him, however. It wasn’t always an indication of further interest but the man had been staring at the way his breeches filled out—not many regular men could do that with an appraisal this obvious. One thing had let to the other, and now Franz was inextricably linked to said man through a set of circumstances he couldn’t quite explain himself.

And, of course, the physical link happening right now: The hand that was on his cock trying its best to derail the thoughts he was trying to articulate.

"I thought we were already doing the first," the amused voice of the fucking Prince of Saxony, Duke Albert the Gentle said. "And I much rather you didn’t join any orgies with the rest of my ilk, even though it seems like you’d be ideal entertainment. Perhaps you should think of a change in employment in any case."

"Lick my arse," Franz said before realising that that wasn’t a better way of telling the Duke to piss off. And knowing him, pissing off was only a different sexual practise he was keen to try out. Franz, of course, was only trying to have it out with the Duke politically, honest. There was nothing to turn this conversation back into acceptable distances, however, not with Albert’s hand on his bare skin like it was.

"All of your suggestions—while of great merit to me personally— aren’t very conductive to thinking about the demands of the miners’ guild, you know. You should be focusing on presenting your work to me instead of trying to seduce me with tantalising images. I’m already seduced."

Albert wasn’t the prettiest man Franz had ever been with. He hadn’t known that Albert was a Duke at first, or he’d never approached him for a bit of a rough tumble. But there was something about his bearing, something about how he kept looking so amused—and perhaps also the way he was just so damn charming. Franz had been fascinated.

Initially, he’d only sat next to him at the tavern. A local watering hole, it was brightly lit with the usual lamps and candles, the smell of tallow and oil intimately familiar from the long hours underground. Franz lived almost next door, the house of his late brother central to the town but near enough to the entrance of the mine that moving wouldn’t matter. Technically, after his brother’s death, he owned the building in its entirety, but it was nonsense to chase away the widow of his brother to inferior lodgings when he was on his own. Maria, his brother’s widow, had asked him what they’d do when he found a wife and he’d not known how to reassure her that he wouldn’t.

He’d found places for his eldest nephew in the mines, since they paid good wages and were predisposed to take good sons of hard-working fathers, and his brother had been that.

Back in the now, Franz wanted nothing more than to succumb to his ministrations, the hand exploring along his balls a temptation that was hard to resist but even so, he closed his eyes and sucked in the breath he needed to stay calm. “You can’t cut the payment for the pound of mineral stone, unless you want to cut extraction in half or more. The easier ore has been extracted already and going deeper his bone breaking work. Nobody is going to do that kind of work if you continue to let countless widows and children starve. We can take care of our own with what we make now but if our income ”

Albert, who was probably not aware of how hard it was to find quality miners and didn’t know about the brilliance one needed to introduce any innovation down in the dark, scoffed. “The Bohemians seem to make do with less,” he said. “And if the guilds have time to stir up trouble in the streets, they have time to work in the mines.”

Franz would’ve liked to beat him up, would have liked to show him the working conditions during the floods, or in freezing cold mudslides, carrying 60pounds of ore out of the mountain on your back. Not to mention the many many people they lost to accidents, mountain madness, or other illnesses. That was not, however, the reason the apprentices started fights on the street—and that usually had nothing to do with how much or how little their wages were. Apprentices fought for their honour and the honour of their chosen field—and sometimes just because— since the miner’s apprentices had to pay their masters for the pleasure of their teaching in most places that were worth anything.Franz wanted nothing more than to succumb to his ministrations, the hand exploring along his balls a temptation that was hard to resist but even so, he closed his eyes and sucked in the breath he needed to stay calm. “The Bohemians can collect their ore off the ground without digging. None of them have in any way the technical know-how to mine ore the proper way. Your majesty has to realise what kind of treasure you have underneath your feet—do you think the silver for your coins grows upon trees?"

Albert sighed deeply and dropped his hands. Franz would have complained if he’d done so a while ago, but now he was too concentrated on his argument—an argument the duke wanted them to have!— to focus on the pleasure. "I wish you sounded less reasonable about this," the duke said, and for the first time Franz had the impression of seeing the actual person behind the facade. "Couldn’t you have just been a pretty face I picked up at the tavern?"

"I never pretended to be anyone than who I am," Franz replied rather tartly.

The duke laughed. "Fine, you got me."

"And it’s your fault that I even know you as a duke, your majesty." Franz added, scooting forward on Albert’s lap. If the duke was going to kill him for being impudent, he’d already be dead. "I’d have been happy to suck off an impoverished noble." His hands slipped into the half-open shirt, drawing figures on the warm skin. "How about I go down on your cock to make you forget about how much you hate talking about politics? You remember how well I take your… turgid member."

The duke laughed as intended, and Franz could feel the vibrations of his laughter down to his finger tips. Albert really was too charming, charming enough to make Franz forget about his terrible decision-making.

He concentrated on the matter at hand, however, and continued to bring the duke to completion.


End file.
